Back In Black
by 50-points-for-ravenclaw
Summary: A new pack is in town, set on joining with Scott and his own pack. The only problem is, they have hunters tailing them. This isn't even the worst thing the Beacon Hills pack is facing though. Kate Argent has suddenly come back from the dead and is as sadistic as ever. Not to mention, Peter Hale seems to be precariously balancing atop the line between good and bad. Here we go...


The school still looked the same. Her classmates all still looked the same, not that she had ever paid most of them much attention. Everything looked the same, but it all felt so different. The hallways felt smaller and the people talked louder and everything felt so imposing now—like she was now imprisoned within these concrete walls covered in mocking, cheery posters.

Mostly, it just felt like something big was missing. There was a huge gap in her life now and she wasn't sure how to handle it. She knew exactly what the gap was, where it came from, but she tried not to think about it. It was going to take her more than a month to accept the fact that her best friend was gone.

Lydia stood at her locker, staring blankly at the small mirror propped up in the back behind her books. Her face was void and empty behind its neatly applied make-up. If anyone saw her passing by, they would assume she was just the regular Lydia Martin they had known from the beginning of high school. Everyone had heard what happened to Allison Argent but they assumed the friendship between the girls to be superficial like most of Lydia's past relationships. This was the hardest thing for her, she thought. Lydia wanted to scream at her peers, to yell at the top of her lungs that Allison had been her best friend, her sister, and now that she was gone, she had a huge hole ripped into her chest and it was eating away at her slowly. She wanted them to understand her pain and to feel sorry for her and to realize that yes, Lydia Martin cared and could feel heartache.

She didn't do any of that though. She kept it bottled up, something she had gotten very good at doing over the years. Lydia would continue to style her hair in a different way every day, to wear a skirt at least three times a week, along with a pair of heels at least four times, and would hold her head high as she walked down the hallway on everyone's first day back to school after winter break. She wouldn't let on about how that Christmas was the hardest she had ever endured or how she missed her friends endlessly but continued to avoid them, fearing that seeing them would break her resolve. For now, she held the economics textbook she had just retrieved from her locker tight to her chest and walked with sure steps to the corresponding classroom.

On her way into Coach Finstock's room, a poster, hanging only by one corner next to the doorway, caught her eye. She saw the words 'Winter Formal' and immediately turned her back to it, stepping quickly into the room. Whenever she heard anything about that particular event, a heavy sense of dread always settled in her stomach. It brought back memories of Peter, Jackson, and lots and lots of blood. It was something she tried not to remember because it was all too painful and terrifying. It reminded her that even before she knew of everything going on in Beacon Hills, she was a part of it. Peter made sure of that. It forced her to remember the fear she felt out on the field and later on when she was running blind through the woods for days. It brought back that dull feeling in her chest whenever Jackson came to mind because she missed him more than she cared to admit.

The thought of ever going to a Winter Formal again made her want to vomit and after everything that happened with the nogitsune at Echo House and the school, the idea of going to anything like a dance was completely out of the question. Lydia could feel her mask slipping until the anger set in that she'd been at school for all of ten minutes and she seemed to already be cracking—and all because of a stupid left over poster. She schooled her features once more but sat in a seat in the very back of the classroom nonetheless, despite her past insistence to always sit in or near the middle.

Lydia was too busy staring out the window at the vaguely cloudy sky to register the sound of Stiles saying her name and only looked over at him just as the bell was ringing. She was glad she didn't respond though because the look on his face was too much to handle and she didn't think she could have lasted seeing more than a fleeting glimpse. Noticing the periodic glances she was receiving from her classmates, Lydia clenched her jaw a bit as she ignored their probing eyes and looked out the window again.

Even after everyone was seated and either focused on Finstock's beginning-of-the-semester speech or the back of their eyelids, Lydia felt a pair of eyes still trained on her. She looked over, catching sight of Stiles's own eyes focused on her and swimming with worry but took care not to let herself do the same to him, looking back out the window for a third time.

Five…Ten…Fifteen minutes passed (Lydia wasn't exactly sure of the number) and still she continued to stare blankly out the window. She must have taken up twirling her hair around her finger because at one point she twisted it too tight and it tugged painfully against her scalp. To any of her classmates, she looked simply like she was daydreaming or thinking really hard about something. Honestly, Lydia didn't know what was going on in her mind. She was trying to keep from thinking about anything but that was hard when her brain had a habit of never shutting off. Mostly she was attempting to avoid thinking, which could be seen in the hard lines of her furrowed brow and the slight downward tilt to one corner of her painted red lips.

Even so, Lydia's mind continued to revert back to the one thing she wanted to keep out of her thoughts. It was slowly starting to wear her down and she was wondering if maybe she should have listened to her mother and stayed home from school for a few days when the door opened again and she had an excuse to escape from her thoughts.

She couldn't say she was surprised at who walked into the classroom, but nonetheless, her eyebrows rose when Malia stepped in with the principle at her side, looking uncomfortable but still managing to glare at the class. Lydia pursed her lips, staring at the other girl calculatingly. She knew Malia would be joining them in classes today seeing as she had been checking into the school just before the break. She wasn't exactly positive how she felt about it until Coach informed the class of her name and told her to sit in one of the empty seats in the back corner. Huh...he must have moved some people up when people avoided the front row. The Coach did have a habit of yelling.

Seeing Malia seemed to do something to Lydia though. Her heart had already been pounding with nerves from the moment she walked into the school but as soon as Malia sat down, leaving an empty seat between the two, her heart clenched. Maybe it was because the new girl made her feel anxious or because the idea of an empty seat between her and someone else she knew only forced her to think about Allison's absence. Either way, Lydia clenched her fists tightly under the table until she could feel her nails digging into her palms and she might have been bleeding but she honestly wasn't really sure. A stinging sensation took over a second later though and she switched to clutching at her desk instead, letting her head fall forward as she felt her breath quicken.

The girl sitting in front of her, someone Lydia didn't remember ever having seen before, turned around to ask if she was okay and she quickly nodded, hoping to take her attention away. All she could concentrate on at that moment was controlling her rapidly increasing breaths. Was this what a panic attack felt like? She wasn't sure; she had only seen others (Stiles) experience them and the idea that she may have been experiencing one herself, in the middle of class, scared her even more. Her eyes clenched shut and she began counting, trying to match every inhale with every multiple of three. It seemed to be working as her breaths regulated and she wasn't sure how long she spent working through this process but the bell for the end of first period was ringing without warning. Before she could think, she grabbed her bag and rushed out the door, ignoring the way Stiles was looking at her.

Lydia flew down the hallway, the students around her appearing only as blurs as they came and went in her line of vision. She found a bathroom and was relieved to find it empty so she could lock the door and stumble over to the sink, her hands holding herself up against the porcelain bowl and her face staring stricken into the mirror in front of her. Gasping just slightly, she tried to calm her jittery limbs, to let her heart slow its pace and to keep her hands from shaking so bad by clinging to the sink. Even with her perfectly applied make-up and nicely done curls hanging loosely around her face, Lydia looked wrecked, her eyes wide and her skin pale. Everything about her expression screamed that she was falling apart on the inside and she was starting to understand that she was probably not capable of hiding that on the outside.

Exhaling long and slow, Lydia managed to slide down to the floor (the fact that it was beyond unsanitary not even reaching her thoughts) and leaned back against the wall, clutching her legs to her chest. She had underestimated how hard this would be. And now she was curled up on the bathroom floor at school, locking the rest of the world out, with the beginnings of a sob building up in her chest. Just before she could succumb to the enticing feeling of letting go of everything, there was a knock on the door and a voice echoed through the bathroom and Lydia wasn't sure whether it made her want to cry more or laugh in relief that someone still saw her. She ended up doing neither, sitting against the wall with her eyes trained on the tile across from her until the voice spoke up again, repeating what it said before, and she shut her eyes.

"Lydia?"

* * *

Reyna Schneider took a deep breath as she stared up at Beacon Hills High School. She wasn't nervous about starting at this new school. Sure, it would be the first time she ever attended a public school and god knows it was the first time she had ever been around this many teenagers at one time. More than anything she just wanted to prepare herself for what was to come. The first time she saw the Alpha would make or break her purpose in this town and she couldn't let it go wrong, for the safety of her own pack.

Turning away from the suddenly imposing building she found Fiona standing behind her, giving her a gentle smile. While the woman could be intimidating most times, she had a soft side, maternal even. Besides, Reyna had long gotten used to her brusque nature and even enjoyed it. Not only could it be quite amusing at times but it was a constant in her wildly inconstant life.

"You ready?" Fiona asked, her eyebrows rising up her forehead as her eyes glanced toward the school.

Reyna gave her a confident smile, shrugging, before saying: "Well he can't kill us in a place so public so at least we know we'll be safe for the day."

Fiona chuckled and wrapped her arm around the younger girl's shoulder, dragging her toward the entrance to the school. "I really hope you're in one of my classes, kid."

Reyna smirked, shaking her head as she let her surrogate mother drag her toward the school.

Teenagers milled about everywhere but no one really seemed to be paying her much attention, something that Reyna found strange for such a small town. In fact, the mood was quite solemn for it being the first day back from winter break. Then she remembered the death of that Argent girl, the hunter. She couldn't really bring herself to feel sorry but she didn't celebrate the death either as she knew the Argent family had been good and, even more importantly, close to the Alpha she was searching for. She wasn't exactly sure what state he would be in when she met him but she was preparing herself for the worst.

At the front office, Fiona split from her to go to her own classroom. It was still a little while until homeroom would begin so Reyna took her time getting her schedule from her guidance counselor and going to her locker. She quietly observed her classmates as more and more piled in through the front doors and flooded the hallways. Nothing important was announced though, at least nothing important to her. If anything, Reyna found most of her peer's conversations to be immature and annoying. Once the bell rang for first period, she pulled her necessary books from her locker with a relieved sigh and headed to her homeroom classroom, luckily without getting lost. She was definitely happy about being able to schedule a last minute orientation/tour with the principal four days prior.

Reyna stepped into the room, confidence oozing from every step although no one bothered to pay her much attention, and sat in a seat near the back. Discretely listening in on conversations around her, hoping to hear something of the Alpha, Reyna settled in as she waited with the rest of her peers for the bell to ring. Nothing much happened at all during her homeroom period though and so she continued on to her Economics class hoping she would have better luck there when she discovered a rather loud and rambunctious coach as her teacher. Guess not.

As she sat down, already sighing in frustration from Coach Finstock's grating voice, a strange scent hit her. She sat up straight peering up at the door through her eyelashes. A girl, impeccably dressed in a light pink dress that contrasted nicely with the brighter orange of her long wavy hair, shuffled into the room, rushing to the back to sit right behind her. Reyna stiffened in her seat, staring at her desk so as her hair would cover her face and breathed in deeply, catching the scent even more poignant than before. It was like nothing she had ever smelled before. It wasn't human yet it wasn't werewolf either.

"Lydia."

Looking up at the voice, Reyna found a tall gangly brunette standing right next to her, addressing the red-head behind her. The girl, Lydia, didn't answer though and just as the boy looked to be saying something else, the bell rang and Coach Finstock started yelling for everyone to sit down. The boy sighed, glancing over at Reyna curiously for a moment before making his way up to one of the many available seats in the classroom located in the front row. This promptly led to Finstock yelling at the class to move up. Luckily, she was able to remain in her seat.

Class began and Reyna could honestly say she was not overly impressed. Maybe it was only this boring because it was the first day and besides, Coach Finstock seemed a bit quirky. So far though, he had only managed to drone on about putting forth the effort to succeed and how they couldn't slack off just because it was second semester.

The class was interrupted thankfully when the door opened to present a mildly annoyed looking girl and the principal of Beacon Hills High. He introduced the girl as 'Malia Tate', a new student. Reyna assumed the reason he was introducing her to the class was because she had needed help finding her way to the classroom and was thankful she didn't have to endure that. The rush of quiet whispers that erupted around the room at the girl's name certainly did peek her interest though. Malia moved to the back of the room quickly to sit somewhere in the last row.

Reyna's attention was once again grabbed by the strange red-headed girl's scent, although another scent made itself known and she found herself unable to concentrate throughout class as she tried to figure out what they could possibly be. The Malia girl smelled so much like a werewolf, it didn't seem far-fetched to think she could be a part of the pack here in Beacon Hills but something about the scent was off. But Lydia was what Reyna was really worried about. She was so completely foreign and her scent was so strong at that the moment that she was beginning to feel a little worried.

As if the girl was reading her mind, her scent grew stronger and Reyna realized it was probably because her emotions were peeking. Casually peeking behind her, she found the girl clutching her desk in her hands tightly, her head bowed in front of her. Throwing caution to the wind, Reyna turned around and asked her: "Hey are you alright?"

Lydia looked up, her eyes wide for a moment, her breathing still unnaturally heavy but she nodded in response to the question. Reyna didn't believe it for a second, and she didn't need to be a werewolf to know the girl was lying. Even so, this girl was a stranger and more importantly she was strange. She wasn't about to push her.

Instead of trying to talk to her anymore, she turned back to the front, schooling her features to look as if she was paying attention to whatever the Coach was saying and not monitoring the girl behind her's heartbeat. You could never be too careful and this girl was definitely something supernatural, even if she didn't know it. Reyna couldn't let a wild creature run loose on her first day of school. Despite what she was here for, she was kind of hoping to settle into a more normal life here in Beacon Hills.

Even though she was trying to avoid anymore confrontation with the mysterious girl sitting behind her, Reyna only grew more fidgety as Lydia's heart pounded more and her breath became more shallow. She was starting to think she might have to jump into a fight during her first ever real high school class when the bell rang and the red-head shot out of her seat and dashed out the door. Reyna was surprised for a moment, wondering how forty-five minutes had passed by so quickly but didn't take long to recover and stood from her seat, ready to chase the girl down. The boy from earlier beat her to it though, yelling out "Lydia!" as he tried to squirm through the crowd of teenagers fighting to get through the door.

Reyna decided then that she wouldn't get involved. This wasn't what she came for, and she didn't have time to go chasing after mysterious red-headed girls and their boyfriends. With this thought in mind, she continued resolutely on to her next class. And she continued her day that way as well. There wasn't much to worry about though because she didn't see the boy or the mysterious sort-of-werewolf, Malia, the rest of the day and only caught glimpses of the red-head named Lydia a few times before she seemed to vanish into thin air. Perhaps most frustrating though, and definitely disappointing, was the lack of any other werewolf scent within the high school, specifically that of an Alpha.

* * *

Scott was aware that someone was trying to enter his room, but, even with his advanced hearing, he didn't really register the sound of their knocking until it ceased—to be replaced by the sound of the door opening. Light footsteps padded over to his bed and he felt the mattress sink behind him, a hand gently coming to rest on his shoulder. With a sigh, he rolled onto his back, pushing himself up so he was leaning against the wall at the head of his bed.

"I thought you had work today," he murmured, glancing up at his mom before staring at the hands he had resting between his knees.

Melissa McCall didn't answer at first, her hand falling to settle on his knee. When she did speak, she sighed short and soft. "I thought it would be best to stay home today."

Scott looked up with a pained expression before shaking his head. "You don't have to do that. I'm okay."

"Scott, you know I'm here for you."

"You shouldn't take time off work."

"Well one shift isn't going to break us."

Scott froze, his hands stilling from their fidgeting and his eyebrows furrowing. His chest felt as if a weight had been dropped onto his rib cage and he could feel a stinging at his eyes. With a few good blinks the stinging went away but the memory of the last time his mother told him that didn't. He wasn't sure why he was upset—lacrosse was usually a happy memory, especially his first game as part of first line—but he was almost positive it was because he associated anything from the year before with Allison. Allison: his first love, his girlfriend at that time.

A shudder shook through his body and he could tell his mom noticed by the way she squeezed his knee. Maybe she was thinking of that night too. He suddenly felt so guilty at acting this way in front of his mother and stood up quickly from his bed.

"Scott?" Melissa said, her eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"I think I'm gonna go out. Maybe go on a walk," Scott muttered. "You should go to work. I'll be okay."

His mom stood there for a moment, watching him carefully before sighing. She walked around the bed, pulling him into a tight hug, her hands directing his head down to her shoulder where she stroked his hair. "Don't do anything stupid," she murmured with conviction into his ear before letting him go.

He nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching up in an attempt at a smile. She stared at him a moment longer before nodding as well and leaving his room. Scott looked around his bedroom, and then toward his window contemplatively. Without much thought, he stepped over, threw it open, and leapt from the new opening, landing smoothly in a crouch on the ground a story below. Before he knew what he was really doing, he took off on foot away from his house. He was trying to think of a place that wouldn't remind him of the one thing he really couldn't afford to think about right then but nothing came to mind because everything was Allison.

He didn't know how long he traveled around town, alternating between jogging and walking, but eventually he found himself surrounded by some very familiar trees that blocked out most of the sunlight beaming down from high in the sky. With a sigh, he headed toward the place he knew his instincts were leading him to and before long, he was standing in front of the charred remains of the old Hale house.

Scott didn't really know why he would feel any sort of pull to this place. In fact, it held some of his worst memories, especially of Allison. Maybe he thought by going there, he would find some answers to questions he didn't even know because he so often came here before for guidance from Derek. Either way, he decided there was a reason he was there and so sat down in the dirt a good distance from the house and propped his arms up lazily on top of his knees, staring at the half collapsed structure with a puzzled expression.

The smell of another presence hit him before Derek came into view so he didn't start when the man himself stepped up beside him, his eyes glued to the same thing as him. They didn't speak for a minute, both just observing the house, until Derek broke the silence.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" he asked gruffly, as if he already knew why Scott wasn't, something Scott had no doubt of. In response, Scott only snorted unamused. "Well if not school, then why here?"

Scott paused for a moment, still unsure of the answer to that question himself, before shrugging slowly. "Just…looking for answers."

Pause.

"What about you?"

"Same as you."

Something in Derek's voice caught Scott's attention, and he looked up at the man standing beside him before standing up himself. Giving Derek a once over, he noticed his hair is slightly disheveled, and he had let his beard grow out a little longer than usual. The skin under his eyes was darker than usual giving him a tired, haggard look. It was clear something was keeping him up nights and suddenly Scott realized he hadn't talked to Derek since the nogitsune was defeated.

He squinted just slightly at Derek in curiosity and the older man turned to look at him, expressionless. He seemed to know Scott was expecting an explanation but didn't make to say anything. He only stared back with his patented, uninterested stare before Scott sighed and turned to look at the house again.

"I honestly don't know what I'm doing," Scott mumbled and it was clear that there was a double meaning to his words. Mostly he said it in hopes of pushing Derek to share but it backfired because now Derek was looking at him expectantly.

"You know you can talk to me," Derek said, surprising the teen. "You know how important pack is to me and I still consider you my alpha, even if you don't consider me a part of your pack. Pack is family and family helps each other. If you need to talk, then talk."

Scott was so thrown by this that he didn't say anything at all for a few moments, frowning at the ground. He wasn't sure why he suddenly felt inclined to pour his heart out to Derek when he blatantly rejected his mother's support just a few hours before but maybe it was Derek's speech about packs. Something inside him seemed to have swelled at those words.

"You are pack to me," he replied instead, deciding that letting everything out would probably not be in his favor. "And you know that goes both ways." He gave Derek a pointed look and he could swear Derek rolled his eyes.

Derek still refused to share though so they elapsed into another awkward silence, tension seeping into the air between the two the longer it went on. Scott fidgeted uncomfortably, so used to being around those who loved to hear their own voices (i.e. Stiles and Lydia).

"I miss her," he blurted out and Derek's head snapped to the side to look at him. He seemed to have been expecting this though because what passed as a sympathetic gaze for him was already settled on his features when Scott glanced at him. "I mean I know it's been over three weeks and she would probably hit me if she saw me acting like this but I didn't expect it to be this hard. I knew we all ran the risk of...every time we fight something or someone there's always that chance. But I just got it in my head that 'We've lasted this long and everyone's still here, for the most part. Why would that change now?' I mean it was difficult losing Boyd and Erica, they were pack and it still hurts but Allison just feels different."

"You loved her," Derek cut in at that moment and Scott was once again surprised by him but this time it was his soft and understanding tone. He wanted to ask Derek about it but was afraid it might have had something to do with Kate and that was probably not something Derek wanted to discuss. Derek must have detected his curiosity though because he continued. "I know…how you feel I mean. I had…when I was your age, I had a…there was…Paige. Her name was Paige. I understand how you feel."

Scott was momentarily thrown by Derek's uncharacteristic openness, trying to imagine a teenage Derek hopelessly in love with a girl and having to watch her die just like he did. He couldn't tell if the parallel of the situation made him feel just a little better in not being alone or worse knowing that that was just another terrible tragedy that Derek had to endure in his life.

Derek looked more uncomfortable than upset with sharing this information so Scott figured it was okay to ask him to elaborate. Even though he knew the general story from when Stiles relayed it to him, he never really received the entire picture. "How?"

"I was naïve. I thought that keeping the fact that I was a werewolf a secret from her was never going to last, which is true, but my solution for the problem was wrong. I thought…making her like me would make it so we could stay together. I knew she would accept me no matter what but I was greedy and that's what ended up killing her. She didn't survive the bite. She died in my arms."

Scott mulled over this information, his gut clenching at the similarities between this story and his final moments with Allison. He still remembered the heavy weight of her against his arms, the blood that seeped out onto his skin and the slowly dimming light in her eyes. He clenched his eyes shut for a moment before looking at Derek.

"Why are you telling me this?" Scott knew this was probably a rude thing to ask, especially considering Derek's usual unwillingness to share but he didn't really understand why Derek would think this could help him. If anything, it was just making Scott feel worse.

"Because you need to understand that what happened was out of your control. Unlike me, you had no hand in what happened so you need to stop blaming yourself."

"I'm not bla-"

"I know you Scott. You blame yourself for almost everything that goes wrong in this town. And with someone as important to you as Allison, I know you're drowning yourself in guilt. I told you about Paige because they might seem similar but our roles were completely different. You were Allison's comfort in death and I was the cause of Paige's," Derek practically growled.

The determination in his voice caught Scott's attention and he knew what Derek was saying was true. It didn't change the fact that he still felt guilty for Allison's death, he always would he thought, but Derek's words did help to alleviate some of the pain associated with it. He couldn't help but wonder though…

"Do you still feel guilty about what happened to Paige?"

Derek took a moment to answer. "Yes." There was another pause before he continued and his words made Scott feel just a little better. "But I've accepted it. I realized a long time ago that letting my guilt take over wouldn't change what happened and Paige would be…really pissed at me for letting it control my life."

Scott actually let a chuckle through at that, the way Derek described Paige reminding him so much of Allison. He couldn't help but think that if they had all gone to high school together, they would have been good friends.

He was starting to think his instincts were right in bringing him there because it seemed talking to Derek was actually the best thing for him. The ex-alpha made him realize the part he still plays: he was still the leader of a pack and he wasn't the only one hurting. Scott felt the need to see Lydia, knowing of everyone, she understood the most what he was feeling right now. He couldn't help but admire the fact that she managed to go to school today. Not just her but Stiles too. He felt an overwhelming surge of pride for his pack. Derek seemed to sense it because he sent him a small smile—an actual smile mind you, something Scott had only seen a few times—and slapped him on the shoulder good-naturedly.

"You'll figure it out Scott," he said comfortingly. "It'll take time, but you're strong."

Scott couldn't help but preen at the so rare praise coming from Derek and smiled a little bigger before narrowing his eyes at his friend. "So, are you going to tell me what's going on with you?"

Derek gave him a dubious look, and Scott knew it was a no before he said anything. He knew it was going to be a no before he even asked, if he was being honest.

"It's something I need to figure out on my own," Derek replied, his eyes finding their way back to the house.

"Well, if you need to talk, then talk."

Derek gave him a look at the cheeky reply, Scott smiling at his repetition of the older man's earlier words. He definitely rolled his eyes this time but then looked at him seriously.

"If anything comes of it, then I'll talk," he replied, before walking away. He disappeared into the tree line and Scott was a bit thrown by his abrupt exit for a few moments but he shook it off and began his trek out of the woods. He knew now he had a few unfulfilled obligations to take care of.

* * *

Stiles was worried. Okay no scratch that—he was freaking the hell out. Not only was his best friend M.I.A. and had been for almost two weeks now, but he had just witnessed what he was almost positive was a panic attack in the form of Lydia Martin. He had tried to catch her as she left the room but she flew out so fast he couldn't reach her and before he knew it, the entire class was crowding the doorway trying to get out. It was hopeless trying to find where she went.

He cursed under his breath as he wandered down the hall, not really worried what direction he was going in. People swerved to get out of his way as he made no move to walk around them. He only broke out of his reverie when a voice called his name from behind.

"Stiles!"

He turned around only to be engulfed in golden hair. He leaned away a little but wrapped his arms around the body that was hugging him before pulling away awkwardly. "Hey Malia," he greeted genuinely.

"I tried to catch you before you left Coach's room but you ran out of there like you were on fire," she said, a playful smirk decorating her face.

Stiles chuckled, his heart not as into it as it normally would have been. "Yeah well you have to get out of there as fast as you can or you might get sucked in for the rest of the day. Or that's probably just me. He doesn't like me very much."

Malia raised her eyebrows at that, seemingly expectant of some stories, but Stiles was too distracted to really notice, glancing around the hallway. She seemed to take notice of this as her eyebrows pulled together and her mouth turned down into a small frown while she glanced over him.

"You okay?" she asked, hesitantly, as if uncomfortable at the thought that she might need to provide any reassurance to her new friend.

His head snapped back to her and his face turned apologetic, confusing Malia even more. "Yeah, sorry. I'm just a bit…distracted."

"Hey I get it," she said nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders. "I can't expect you to be 100% after everything that's happened."

She tried to act as if her words didn't really mean anything but she knew they really did when a flash of pain crossed Stiles's features. In an attempt to keep the conversation from traveling into dangerous territories, she changed tactics.

"So when's the next time we can get together with Scott to work on this whole….were-coyote thing?" Malia asked, lowering her voice at the end of the sentence.

Stiles sighed, his whole body sinking as he looked at her with what could only be described as overwhelming defeat. He threw a hand in the air to signal he had no clue how to answer her question.

"I honestly have no idea. I haven't talked to him since the last time we were there and I haven't seen him. I've tried going to his house and Ms. McCall just keeps telling me he needs more time. I don't get it! We've always been there for each other when things like this happen but now he's shutting me out. And apparently Lydia is having panic attacks and who knows where the hell Isaac or Derek are! Ethan is gone now and I'm pretty sure Mr. Argent is too and my dad is slammed at the station trying to fix everything the nogitsune screwed up. And I'm sitting here out of my mind, worried and confused and I'm trying to talk to everyone but it's really hard when they avoid me like I still have an evil Japanese spirit possessing me!"

Malia must have taken a bit of a step back from him because she was leaning a bit away from him when he finished ranting. Looking around, he noticed the hallway was empty, meaning the bell probably rang somewhere in the middle of his speech and thinking back, that was probably a good thing considering the volume at which he had been speaking about supernatural beings.

His shoulders slumped once again in defeat and he looked at Malia guiltily. "Sorry," he muttered.

"It's alright," she answered back, her posture relaxing a little.

"I'm just a little stressed right now," he sighed, his hand coming up to rub at his face.

"A little?"

Stiles gave Malia a small glare with no heat and she smirked in response. For some reason her casual demeanor was actually making him feel a bit better. He blew out a long slow breath, before looking skyward for a moment.

"We're late for history," he breathed.

"Well, you know, I'm not really feeling very historical today," Malia said and Stiles raised an eyebrow at her.

"That was terrible," he stated and she rolled her eyes.

"Just come on," she commanded, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the double doors leading outside.

"You realize this is my first day back to school in like a month? I'm pretty much failing all my classes right now," Stiles said, not putting up any physical fight against her as she continued pulling him.

"So?"

"Oh yeah that's right. I forgot this is your first day going to school in eight years, so you don't know how important this stupid place actually is to my future."

Malia turned around to give him a flat look, stopping in front of the doors. She glanced between him and the door, raising her eyebrows at him expectantly.

"Decide now, fox boy," she said and Stiles scrunched his face at the name. He just knew it was in retaliation for his comment.

He stayed still for a moment before exhaling in exasperation. "You're a terrible influence on me you know," he said, glaring at her while he pushed the door open. "I mean it." Malia only grinned in response, following him out of the school.

"Everyone needs a day off sometimes, Stiles."

* * *

**AN:** Hey so I thought I would kid of try out a new story although I probably shouldn't cuz I'm terrible with consistency. Anyways I wanted to put it out there and see what sort of reaction I get so I can decide whether to continue with it. I know not much happens but I felt the need to show the affect of Allison's death plus I introduced two of like five (?) OCs that will be in this story so yay! Just review and let know if you want to read more and I'm sorry about any mistakes. I do not have a good writing program on my computer currently so I'm using WordPad which does not have any sort of spell/grammar check. Therefore this is all my own editing. Sorry this is so long...hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think (:


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